Vengeance Came When Winter Fell
by Barbarossa
Summary: What if rather than turning down Stannis' offer to be legitimized and made Lord of Winterfell Jon had accepted. In this version of events a newly legitimized Jon Stark faces an uphill battle against House Bolton to reclaim the North.
1. Jon I & Arnolf I

Jon

Jon stroked the side of Ygritte's face as the redhead lay next to him bare as the day of her birth. Sleepily her eyes opened gazing back into Jon's. Light flickered against the stone walls of Winterfell as the shadows cast by fire danced like sprites in the forest.

"You are my world Ygritte and for my world I have given a kingdom. Our children will rule over the North for thousands of years until the sun refuses to rise and the world grows cold forever. None will forget the Wildling Queen of the North and her bastard king, for songs will be sung of how we threw out the Andal Kings and reclaimed the Kingdom of Winter for the First Men."

Ygritte smiled and then began to cry; Jon didn't understand why and went to brush away the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying, Ygritte?"

Ygritte's breathing grew irregular and inconsistent as she cried. Jon looked to her chest and saw blood dripping from a wound between her breasts. Fear, horror, and woe took hold of Jon as he began to frantically call for servants and for a maester to come and save his wounded queen.

"You can't die Ygritt, I won't allow it!"- rage, fear, and pain all welling up in Jon's increasingly frantic shouts-"I'll save you and we will live as the King and Queen of Winter."

Tears dripped from Jon's face as he embraced his love desperately wondering why no one was coming to help. Were his cries for help not great enough? As he began to lift his queen from their bed to take her to the maester himself Ygritte spoke at again, though her mouth was filled with blood and it dripped down with each word she spoke.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow."

Jon wouldn't accept this; or rather he couldn't accept this. "I would never hurt you. I love you, you know that I have always loved you and always will." Yet as he said this he looked again to the wound in her chest. An arrow was buried deep within her. The unique fletching marked it as Jon's arrow. Grief overcame him as he clung to his dying bride. He embraced her so tightly that were this an old tale her soul might never leave her body and she and Jon would live forever embracing one another until the trees grew around them and they became part of the earth. Yet this did not occur, Ygritte died in Jon's arms as the world faded away and Jon woke from his dream.

Jon's bed was not empty; next to him laid his wife, Val. He looked at her, her blonde hair covering part of her face and he felt guilt return to him for taking a wife so soon after Ygritte's death, for leaving the Night's Watch, and for taking a name that was not his by birth. Val began to stir from her slumber at last and sleepily gazed back at Jon.

"Why does the Lord of Winterfell look so mournful?"

Jon could not bring himself to tell Val of his dream and of his guilt, but he did not have to.

"You miss the girl kissed by fire, the one you stole-" Val's face was one of earnest sadness as she paused for a moment before speaking "I understand your sadness for I miss my Jarl, but we must continue living for them and for ourselves."

Jon and Val held each other tightly in an embrace that warmed them to the world.

Jon dressed himself and looked at the little cloth banner that had been hastily made for him. Upon the banner lay the image of white direwolf surrounded in a heart of flames. It was not the banner of House Stark that had flown at Winterfell during Jon's youth or had been held high above his brother Robb's host as it marched south to avenge the death of their father. He would not use the old banner out of respect for his slain family. The Lord of Winterfell would fly the banner of the white direwolf rising from the flames of rebirth to symbolize the rebirth of the House Stark from Jon Snow through ice and fire. Snow…he had to remind himself that he mustn't think of himself as Jon Snow. King Stannis had offered him an exit from the Night's Watch and an opportunity to have his vengeance on those that had slain his loved ones and he had taken it. Some of his former brothers called him oathbreaker for his abandonment of the Watch, but Stannis had raised him from his status as a bastard and made him Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. As Jon set the banner down a knock at the door broke the silence that filled the room.

Jon looked to Val, who had dressed herself and embraced him from behind, before he opened the door and was faced by one of the queen's men.

"Lord Stark, his Grace commands your presence."

Jon embraced Val for a moment before following the man out into the cold morning air and towards King's Tower. In King's Tower he found the Lady Melisandre seated near the fire, Karhold's castellan Arnolf Karstark in the corner, and King Stannis seated behind the table the Old Bear use to sup at. Jon took the knee only for Stannis to raise his hand for Jon to stand.

"I received a reply to our raven to Bear Island. The Lady Alysane Mormont has bent the knee and has affirmed House Mormont's position as one of the banner men of House Stark. That gives us House Mormont and House Karstark, and half of House Umber."

Jon could see that King Stannis was dissatisfied by the low number of northern lords that that pledged to him.

"Do these men know nothing of honor? They are the banner men of House Stark and yet they spurn the call of their true Lord and his King." irritation swelled within the king's voice.

"They are war weary, your Grace, and the bastard brother of their former king may not be enough to persuade them to send more men to their deaths. We should count ourselves lucky that most have chosen to stay out of the conflict. The Boltons are just as deprived of banner men as we are. Should we be able to demonstrate our strength, the other lords will follow us."

Jon saw Arnolf Karstark move forward to speak.

"Lord Stark is right your Grace, the Northern Lords will rally to your cause if we land a deceive blow to the Boltons. With House Bolton's forces moving south the take Moat Cailin from the Ironborn the Dreadfort will be lightly manned. We should move against the Dreadfort immediately and slit Bolton's throat. The loss of the Dreadfort would be a debilitating blow to the Bolton's and the rest of the Northern lords will flock to your cause."

"Can it be done?" the King asked.

Before Arnolf could go on, Jon cut in. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; that Arnolf's suggestion intrigued and enticed Stannis was clear, but Jon knew better than to believe that Stannis's meager forces were capable of taking the Dreadfort.

"No, it cannot be done." Jon stated firmly.

The Red priestess turned away from her fire and looked to Jon, "And why, Lord Stark, can the lightly guarded den of these traitors not be taken by the King?"

"I was raised on the stories of the Kings of Winter, most children in the North are, and most children can tell you that the Dreadfort will not fall so easily."

The old castellan looked a bit put off by this, but continued to try and justify his cause.

"There will be no more than thirty men defending the Dreadfort and with the Bolton forces moving south, we can take our whole host southwards and besiege the Dreadfort while Bolton besieges Moat Cailin. It will fall in a fortnight and with it so too will fall all support for Bolton. All the Northern Lords will rush out from their hiding places to stand behind the true king of Westeros."

Jon was dumbfounded by the fact that Lord Karstark painted such a attractive picture of what would happen, when any northerner could tell him that what he was advocating was fundamentally impossible. Arnolf should have known better than to believe that the Dreadfort would fall in a fortnight. Yet here he was tempting the king to rush head long into battle against a force that would surely be their doom. It was clear that his rosewater words were warming the king up to the idea and Jon had hurry to quash any notions of taking the Dreadfort.

"I mean no slight Lord Karstark, but this notion of taking the Dreadfort is pure madness. When House Bolton last rose against House Stark it took four years of besiegement for the Dreadfort to finally fall."

"But there are likely only to be a couple dozen men defending the Dreadfort."

"The Dreadfort wouldn't fall in a fortnight even if it was only defended by a dozen men. The defenders will be well provisioned and well equipped to keep us out until Roose Bolton's host marches north and slaughters us outside the Dreadfort's walls. And even if we should manage to escape complete slaughter we will stand completely discredited in the eyes of the Northern Lords who will have no choice but to support Roose Bolton."

Stannis looked sternly at both Jon and Arnolf before finally speaking.

"So what would you have me do, Lord Stark? You yourself said I needed a victory, where must I go to attain this victory so that the Northern Lords will finally do their duty and follow their king? Or would you have me stay here and be forgotten?"

Grabbing a rolled up map on the corner of the table, Jon flattened it out and pointed to Deepwood Motte.

"If we liberate Deepwood Motte from the Ironborn then we have a victory against the enemies of the North under our belt and are like to gain the support of House Glover and those sworn to them. From there we can move southward to free House Tallhart and Torrhen's Square from the Ironborn. By taking the west we give ourselves a stronghold that expands our ranks and legitimizes our cause. It is not a glamorous campaign with a single massive victory over our enemy, but it is a just campaign which will see the Northern Lords declare for our cause, your Grace."

Arnolf looked to be scrambling to save his plan, "The King doesn't need to waste time taking the western coast when he can take the Dreadfort and through it take the whole of the North!" the old castellan angrily replied.

Jon hoped that Stannis would see that his path while not as attractive sounding as Arnolf's was the wiser choice and the choice that would see him gain the North.

"I managed to come back from such a defeat as you describe I would face, Lord Stark. I tried to take Kingslanding with a force much larger than the one I now control but was repulsed and paid dearly for that failure. I am not fool enough to try such a move again and believe that should I fail I will get a third chance. Roose Bolton can keep the Dreadfort for now; we shall march on the west and cast out the Ironborn."

Jon was relieved that Stannis had seen that this path was the only way to achieve victory, but something nagged at him about how adamantly Arnolf Karstark had argued for attacking the Dreadfort when he should have known that it was an impossible task. Perhaps it was just the old man's desire to claim victory, but Jon wondered if the pursuit of honor on the battlefield could truly blind a man to something so obvious as the capabilities of the Dreadfort.

Arnolf

The cold air bit at Arnolf's exposed skin as he stepped out of King Stannis's abode. Though the winds of Autumn chilled his flesh the actions of Ned's bastard had filled him with a burning rage, for the bastard of Winterfell had sabotaged his plot to draw Stannis to the Dreadfort where he and his troops would be slaughtered. Where the Young Wolf would have been like to try and take the Bolton stronghold, his bastard brother was too cautious and had convinced Stannis that the west coast was the path to winning the north. On Jon Snow's advice Stannis was going to try and enlist the aid of the mountain clans before taking Deepwood Motte. While Stannis and most of his host marched through the mountains growing in strength before meeting up with Lady Alysane Mormont and her forces to take Deepwood Motte, Mors Crowfood Umber and Jon Snow would remain with the bastard's wildlings and sizable portion of the Umber forces. The Bastard of Winterfell and his wildling whore were going to venture north of the wall to gather up as many wildings a possible a move that would surely continue to upset many in the Nights Watch. Yes, there was one man on the wall that Arnolf needed to have a discussion with that could very much alter the situation.

Amongst the ravens stood Janos Slynt, waiting for Arnolf as the old man climbed the last steps to the room. Out of courtesy the black brother addressed Arnolf as lord before speaking.

"Lord Arnolf, you know as I that the Nights Watch is not to choose a side in this war?" the sarcasm behind the statement was palpable even and Arnolf chuckled, exposing what few teeth he still possessed.

"I come to consult with you on the prospects of ridding the Watch of that which has gotten in the way of it keeping its vows. The bulk of Stannis's host will be leaving soon with only the wildlings and part of the Umber forces left behind to guard the Wall until the Queen and her men arrive. Should the Nights Watch rise against Denys Mallister they would have the opportunity to cast out the forces that pledge themselves to the usurper and slaughter the wildlings. I'm sure that the Roose Bolton and the Tywin Lannister would be very pleased with the Watch if it acted to protect its autonomy and killed the turncloak Jon Snow."

"Can the Watch count on the aid of Karhold in removing the forces loyal to the userper King?"

"Unfortunately it cannot. Lord Bolton requires the presence of the forces fielded by Karhold to be within the ranks of the Usurper so that when at last the craven Lord Snow believes it time to meet Lord Bolton on the battlefield he will find his army gutted from the inside out."

Slynt's eye flickered with noticeable enough weariness to make Arnolf realize that the craven Southerner might not try to lead his supporters to deposes the Lord Commander and rid the Wall of those sworn to Stannis. He had to think of something that would entice the craven to act. Janos was a narcissist that craved attention, which he thought he could not receive on the Wall he wanted the world to know him and Arnolf knew exactly how to play into this.

"Your name will go done in the annuals of history as the man who defeated the second Night King and freed the Wall. No one will forget Janos Slynt, the 999th commander of the Night's Watch. They will sing songs of you and send great gifts northwards for you. Long after you have died you will be remembered for what you are going to do."

Janos Slynt's lips curled into a twisted smile as the machinations delighted him. A house name lived for a very very long time, but it wasn't often that a man's name was forever remembered. Arnolf saw in that instant that he had the man. Janos Slynt's vanity would play its part in removing those pledged to Stannis from the Wall while Arnolf and his troops marched southwards to meet with Stannis's forces at Torrhen's Square.

"Good bye, Lord Commander" Arnolf uttered as he turned and began to make his way down the steps. Yes, it seemed quite likely that everything was coming into place. After Stannis and Jon Snow were dealt with the Lannisters would kill Harrion as payment and Cregan and Alys would be married. As he made his way down the steps he heard what sounded like the door opening and closing, yet when the door came into view there was no one there. Arnolf's mind began to fill with questions as a slight twinge of fear began to creep into him. Why would someone come in and only to leave in the same moment? Had someone been down here the whole time? Could they have heard him over the squawking of the ravens? Who had it been?

Opening the door Arnolf looked to see if anyone was near, perhaps indicating that they had been the one who opened and closed the door. No one was immediately outside the door and out of the crowd of people no one looked to stand out. Mayhaps it had been the wind or the old man's imagination or someone mistakenly opening the door and realizing they were needed elsewhere; there could be a million reasons for the door having opened. Even as he rationalized the matter, he thought it best not to linger.


	2. The Blackfish I

The Blackfish

Alone in his solar Brynden sat silently mourning the loss of his niece and his king. When he had first heard the news of the betrayal that Walder Frey had perpetrated, he had gone completely silent, and even now only allowed himself to show emotion when in the privacy of his chambers. As he sat alone, his thoughts on his family, a knock came at the door. Upon opening the door he discovered maester Darry standing diminutively before him, a letter in his left hand.

"My Lord, a raven delivered this. I thought it best that you receive it at once or I wouldn't have disturbed you otherwise." That the old master had thought the news ergent seemed apparent from his disheveled state and his heavy breathing that gave away that he has been in a rush to get the letter into Brynden's hands.

"Had the Frey forces failed to kill the raven that had carried the letter or had they sent it themselves?" Bryden wondered silently as he reached out for the piece of parchment.

As he took the letter in hand seeing the seal on the letter and the name it barred was a shock to the old warrior. A Direwolf, the age old symbol of House Stark, marked the wax seal on the letter.

"Did Sansa send this? Was this a desperate ploy by the Lannisters to use his niece as a way to force my surrender?" he though upon seeing the sigil .He wouldn't have put it past them, after all Ryman Fray used his nephew every day to try and get the Blackfish to capitulate, threatening to hang him if Brynden did not surrender the castle. The craven fool never went through with his threats just as he never pressed the attack on the castle even though it was well within his abilities. It would have been no surprise to him if they had tried to use his niece as a tool, but before he threw the message into the fire he saw the name of the man who'd sent it, Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell Warden of the North. Carefully he opened up the letter and read its contents.

"To the honorable Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, Lord Brynden Tully of Riverrun,

A Lannister usurper, born of the crime of incest, sits upon the Iron Throne while his family governs the land. Those that rule in his name have cavorted to commit treason against the true king of Westeros, King Stannis Baratheon, by denying him his throne. Along with their crimes of treason they have murdered my father, my brother and his mother, and married my lady sister off to Tyrion Lannister. I send you this letter as the last surviving trueborn son Lord Eddard Stark, legitimized by King Stannis Baratheon and named his Warden of the North, and implore you to bend the knee to King Stannis. I have called upon father's bannermen to march with me and you and my brother's bannermen as well. All that bend the knee to King Stannis will receive full pardons for rising with my brother and be entitled to vengeance against those that violated the sanctity of guest's rights. Though we share no blood, we have lost much to the Lannisters and I would ask that you stand with me and my king against the usurper in Kingslanding so that justice may be served against those that took the ones we love away from us.

Signed, Warden of the North, Lord Jon Stark of Winterfell."

He read the letter over a couple more times before deciding that he needed to talk to Robb's widow, the Queen, and her mother.

"The Westerling girl and her family will want to hear the news the letter brought", he thought as he made his way to their solar. When at last he arrived he found the Westerlings supping on a stew. The crone Sybell looked as though her stew had suddenly turned to piss in her mouth after she saw Brynden enter the solar. The Blackfish did not trust the woman in the slightest. Though her daughter may have loved Robb, the crone's husband was beyond the moat with the besieging army already having received a pardon by the Iron Throne. The crone must have seen the letter because she immediately asked what news he had brought.

"I've received a letter from Eddard Stark's bastard, Jon Snow. The boy's been legitimized and made Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North and asked that we kneel to King-" He was cut off by Sybell before he could continue to relay the contents of the message.

"But Roose Bolton was made Warden of the North… No matter, if the Stark boy has knelt then so should we." She said almost as though she wished for this with every part of her body.

"If you'd let me finish speaking, I'd have told you that Jon Snow didn't bend the knee to the child in Kingslanding, but to Stannis Baratheon."

With that the woman seemed to have a look of distain as though the Blackfish had torn her hopes away from her. By the look of her one might have thought that Brynden had uttered a stinging personal insult to the woman.

"He has taken up arms in the North and is calling all of his father's banner men and all those that fought with his brother. He says Stannis will pardon all those that rose against him should they agree to stand with him now."

"So do you plan to attach yourself to Stannis' lost cause and follow Eddard Stark's bastard?" every word of Sybell's question dripping with disdain.

"Catelyn never cared for Ned's bastard, but after Robb's brothers were slain by that craven Theon Greyjoy he had to name a new heir. He said the kingdom couldn't die with him should he fall in battle. I was there when he named Jon Snow his heir and though the boy may not be Catelyn's son he is Robb's heir and I will answer his call. I plan to send a raven at night fall. King Jon has knelt to Stannis and so shall I."

"You stupid fool" Sybell spat venomously.

"First, you keep my children and I hostage and refuse to kneel even though the rest of the Riverlands have done so, and now you attach yourself to a cause that is just as doomed as the one you fought for before. You call Ryman Fray a craven for standing outside your walls and not rushing in to take you and yet you hide behind your hostages to strengthen your walls. Turn us over and see how long you last against the Lord of Riverrun!"


	3. Kevan

Kevan

He knelt on the sept bench, his shoulders slumped and his son, Lancel, sitting beside him. Tywin had been his brother, his rock, his friend, and now he lay upon a stepped marble bier, armored almost as if to fight one final battle. It gave Kevan some solace to know that his brother would finally be reunited with the wife that had been so cruelly taken from him all those years ago. As he gazed upon his brother's body, his eyes moving from the ruby encrusted scabbard of his brother's long sword to the uncharacteristic grimace that almost resembled a smile on Tywin's discolored face, he saw his niece. Out of loyalty to, and love for, Tywin he had never told him of any of his suspicions that Stannis' claims were more than just baseless lies and were in fact truth or that his daughter was as unfit be queen regent as she was unfit to be a mother, but now…now he couldn't stop thinking about that moment in the Tower of the Hand. The way Cersei had thrust herself upon her twin and almost begged him to be Hand of the King so soon after discovering her father's death had only caused his suspicions to grow. As he thought of his suspicions he caught a sickly smell that pulled him away from his thoughts. It was the stench of death, the smell of his brother. Kevan could see that the foul odor was causing the small king visible discomfort which in turn was angering his mother.

The sickeningly sweet yet putrid stench of death was no stranger to Kevan Lannister, but the idea that it was emanating from his brother, the Lion of Casterly Rock, seemed to alien to him. The little king wasn't the only one showing visible signs of discomfort, Lord Gyles was coughing far more than usual and two of the Tyrell girls were wrinkling their petite noses. Yes, though Tywin had meant so much to Kevan, there was no doubt that his brother was rotting like any other. Or perhaps he was rotting faster than any other, for it was clearly visible to all onlookers that an unseemly liquid was dripping out from his brother's armor onto the marble bier and was pooling around his corpse.

When at last the ceremony had ended and the majority of the mourners had moved to the Hall of Lamps, Kevan chose to linger.

"I'm sorry." He muttered under his breath as he ventured up to his brother's still body. The discoloration and bloat of a body that had been left out for far too long was all the more evident as Kevan neared his brother, and it sickened him.

"You won't be here for much longer, Tywin; I promise you that. I'll take you home and lay you to rest next to Joanna so that the two of you may never be separated again."

In the Hall of Lamps, Kevan silently observed the mourners. Tywin had been his brother and yet it was almost as if he was invisible to their gaze It seemed that even in death his brother eclipsed him. It didn't truly matter to him; he had never wanted to take on all the responsibilities that Tywin had been cursed with. For Kevan a quiet land and a quiet life was all that he desired. Yet he knew that he had a duty to the family name and to his brother to take on Tywin's responsibilities now that he had passed. Someone needed to protect the family from Tywin's children. After all, Cersei was a haughty fool who behaved like wildfire made flesh and under her direction House Lannister would be more of a laughing stock than it had been under his father. Worse it would be infinitely more reviled by the other great houses. As his eyes passed over the guests he saw his son talking to the queen. He could only guess as to what they were speaking about, but he didn't like how close the two had become and he would be much happier once Lancel was married and gone from this place. It looked as though whatever Lancel was telling Cersei was not to her liking and she left the boy running into the Tyrell's. There was no need for Kevan to guess as to what they might be talking about for it was easy enough to see that Mace wanted to be Hand of the King. As he made his way through the crowded hall to try and prevent Cersei from doing something the family might regret he watched as his niece made a fool of the fat lord of Highgarden. The idiot woman seemed dead set on undoing the alliance between the House Tyrel and House Lannister with such a public refusal of Mace's offer to be Hand and such a public shaming of the man. The Queen of Thorns said something to her fat son that Kevan couldn't make out, but it resulted in the Tyrell's leaving. There was no point in addressing the queen's idiocy in public, it would be a show of weakness if the two fought publicly. With that in mind he made his way to fetch Lancel and depart.

After gathering Lancel, Kevan left the Hall of Lamps to wait for a call from the Queen Regent that he knew would come. He was family and he would faithfully follow his brother to the edge of the world so it was all too predictable that Cersei would call for him to be her son's new Hand. As predicted a message came to Kevan "inviting" him to sup with the Queen Regent.

They supped on beats, bread, and beef and washed it down with a flagon of Dornish wine, though Kevan made sure to take in very little of the wine while he watched his niece drain goblet after goblet of it, almost finishing the flagon on her own. The succulent beef parted for his knife with ease before he brought the bite size pieces to his mouth after having soaked some of the bloody juices that had been pressed out by the pressure of his knife back into the succulent pieces of meat. Through the dinner Kevan was silent, contemplating his brother, his son, and the realization that his niece and nephew had been fucking. It made him feel grim to think that Jaime and Cersei would sully the Lannister name and had caused this whole gods forsaken war by committing such a grievous and disgusting act. The more he thought about it the more he resolved himself to remove Cersei from the regency. It was the only thing that could save the Lannister family from shame and from turning every friend that Tywin had so painfully worked to bring to their cause into a foe.

When at last supper was finished and the servants cleared the table of the remains of their meals Cersei spoke.

"I know how much father counted on you, Uncle. Now I must count upon on you."

This was farce Kevan knew in his core. She thought him as little more than her father's loyal lap dog, but Kevan Lannister was more than that and he would not be talked down to by a little girl.

"You require a Hand now that your brother has turned you down." Kevan replied sternly, making it clear that he understood what game Cersei was playing. It had worked too. She looked to be confused and taken aback by her uncle's forwardness on the issue.

"I did not know what I was saying when I asked Jaime to be Hand. I was stricken with grief for my father's death and sought aid from my brother.-" you mean you lover thought Kevan to himself "- and King Tommen requires someone more seasoned and world wise than my brother."

"Mace Tyrell is older and more seasoned then Jaime." Kevan interjected for the sake of humor, though he kept his voice as flat as it had been before. The suggestion of Mace Tyrell seemed to visibly anger Cersei who pushed a bit of hair from her face as she uttered the word "never" with such strong conviction and vitriol that one might have thought that he had asked her to take part in some heinous act of sexual deviancy. Though now that Kevan thought about it, based on her deviant behavior with her brother, she likely would have been far less disgusted by that then by the suggestion of making Mace the new Hand.

She continued, "The Tyrells overreach their position and would seek to impose their will upon us."

"Indeed, it would be a fool's mistake to make Mace Tyrell Hand, your father would never have it." He paused and saw that a look of self-satisfaction had emerged upon Cersei's face after hearing his remark. He made sure to knock her down after building her up, continuing by saying, "but it would be the work of someone many times more foolish to make an enemy out of the man whose forces saved you from Stannis's pyre."

"F-f-father stopped Stannis, it was the one who saved the city."

"Your admiration for your father is noble, but you miss my point."

Cersei looked struck that Kevan would speak to her like this. She sat their silent as though she was about to speak, but couldn't find the words.

Kevan took her silence as an invitation to continue speaking. "Mace was an inconsiderate fool to try and talk to you about being made hand at the Hall of Lamps, but you were a fool to have so publicly shamed the man."

"I would see the man shamed a thousand times before I see another Tyrell sits upon the small council." She spat back with vitriol.

"You would make enemies of allies as the North rises to the calls of Eddard Stark's bastard and as the Riverlands seethe with banditry and raiding parties led by lords still unconquered. Brynden Tully still holds Riverrun and has responded to the call from Eddard's baseborn son. Other Riverlords will follow and more if we show weakness in our ranks."

"That is why we need you, uncle. Father could always count upon you and now Tommen needs to be able to count upon you in much the same way."

"You ask much of me, Cersei. I am a tired old man and I have not seen my Dorna in two years. Lancel must have Castel Darry secured and protected, I must take my brother back to the Rock, and I would like to retire to my estate with my wife." He said trying to drive home how easy it would be for him to say no.

"Tommen needs you and your guidance."

Taking one final sip of wine before setting his goblet down Kevan finally replied, "Very well. I shall serve his grace faithfully…"

"Very good." His niece said, cutting him off. But he would not allow that to be the end and continued to speak.

"As I was saying, I will accept the position of Hand so long as I am named regent and you return to The Rock as Lady Paramount of the Westerlands."

It seemed that his niece could do nothing more than stare at him. As if his suggestion had been such an alien concept to her that she did not even truly understand what he meant.

"My brother always intended your regency to end and for you to be married to Mace's son. He made that very clear to me and he made it clear that you were well aware of this. I mean to send you back to the Rock and find a husband, whether that is the Willas or another I do not care, but a marriage with the Tyrells would be most beneficial…"

He could see that Cersei's face was becoming visibly red and that a deep anger was rising from her.

"My father did tell me of such things, but I too made it clear that I would not wed."

Kevan would concede that to her but he remained firm on the other counts.

"I will not force a marriage upon you, but for what you ask of me you must go west and take your seat in Casterly Rock." She looked betrayed, but Kevan no longer cared. At this she whined of her place with her son and of her duty as Queen Regent and Kevan countered that her father had not seen it as thus only for the girl to shoot back that her father was dead. Kevan would not have this she-whelp that thought herself Tywin with teats so callously disregard his bother.

"The realm is in chaos, a state that my brother would have been able to right, but you…" she tried to interrupt him, but he would not have it "You would only fan the flames that burn the realm around us. You are a childish little girl who would see House Tyrell and House Lannister come to blows. The North already rises against us again under the banner of Eddard Stark's bastard and Stannis while you sit in the Red Keep trying to foment rebellion and war that would only serve to strengthen the enemies of our house. Your father never even regarded you as his heir. Jaime was always to be the Lord of Casterly Rock, you should count your blessings that you are at least getting that…"

The Queen tossed the contents of her wine cup in Kevan's face which slightly stung his eyes, but he made no move to wipe the liquid from his face.

Realizing that he would get no further in the conversation he asked to leave.

"How dare you give me terms? I am the Queen Regent, the Lady of Casterly Rock while you are an unlanded old man who was nothing more than one of my father's house hold knights!"

"I may have no lands of mine own, but to think that I was nothing more than another knight at your father's table forgets that I'm a Lannister and that my father forgot none of his children when he passed. It also forgets that I am more than capable of immediately fielding two hundred knights and can easily double that number if I must. Sell swords and free riders follow coin and they all know that a Lannister always pays his debts."

"Do you presume to threaten me?"

He was in fact threatening her. At the drop of a coin he could raise an army in the Westerlands and make Cersei's life very miserable. He was his father's second son and never had eyes for the Rock, but if the incestuous bitch continued to push him and continued to drag the Lannister name through the mud then he could raise the Westerlands for Stannis and rule as Lord of Casterly Rock or more likely ally with Mace Tyrell and put an end to the rule of the Queen Regent. Rising with Mace would mean surrendering more power to him, but if they could take the city rapidly enough and place Cersei under arrest before she could destroy all that Tywin had worked for it would be a price he was willing to pay.


End file.
